


Reservations for Two

by masi



Series: Short Stories for BPS [4]
Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-14
Updated: 2013-07-14
Packaged: 2017-12-20 04:32:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/882976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/masi/pseuds/masi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kasamatsu moves to Tokyo for university. He misses Kise sometimes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reservations for Two

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: _Kuroko no Basuke_ (c) Tadatoshi Fujimaki.  
>  Credits: BPS Food Reference Post, found on tumblr.  
> This was written for BPS Challenge No. 27: Food.

Yukio likes Tokyo well enough. Yes, it is more crowded than Kanagawa and more expensive, the commutes are longer, there are more places to waste time, but he isn’t here to enjoy the city. He has his classes; he has basketball. He has formed tentative friendships with classmates and his new teammates. They have dinner together on weekends, always the cheapest and oiliest fast food they can get. Sometimes they have a few rounds of spectacularly bad karaoke. They go on group dates. Yukio can now talk to girls about the weather for a full three minutes.

He misses certain things about Kanagawa sometimes, like his mom’s cooking, particularly the nikujaga. His spacious bedroom. Moriyama and Kobori, and occasionally Hayakawa. He tries not to compare his new coach to Takeuchi, reminds himself that there are different methods to teaching and coaches shouldn’t have to give players a second chance. He thinks that maybe he misses Kise the most.

Kise still texts him regularly, silly, nice things like **how are you, Senpai? Saw a grumpy cat this morning and thought of you UWU**. Or, he sends updates on the team’s progress. Occasionally, his texts are long and rambling stories about Aomine or Kagami, containing emoticons that accurately depict Aomine’s bored expression and Kagami’s eyebrows. And, at least once a week, he complains about how Midorima and Kuroko have been rude to him.

Those texts are easy to respond to: Yukio reminds Kise to focus on his studies, to focus on basketball. He warns him not to get into any arguments with the team or with anyone trying to foul him on the court during a game. Keep a cool head. He asks if Kise is getting along with Nakamura.

**Of course!** Kise replies to this last question. **He never kicks me or calls me things like shallow little twit. Sometimes I miss your tough love.**

Yukio had only a year with Kise, and a good part of it was devoted to teaching that brat some discipline and humility. But they had good times too, all the games they won together, celebrations with the team, their failed group dates. And then there were those evenings with just the two of them on opposite sides of a yakiniku grill after having watched a rival team’s game, eating in comfortable near-silence. The two of them trying out French and Italian restaurants, dressed up in those designer clothes Kise gets for free. Kise making his way through a bowl of onion gratin soup, drawing the rules of place setting on those inconvenient but environmentally-friendly cloth napkins. One entire day spent restaurant-hopping, after Yukio had gotten accepted into Toudai.

“My nutritionist was horrified when she heard about what we did last night,” Kise said once. “But then I showed her the brutal but caring exercise program you have me on, Senpai.”

“You’re the one dragging me to places!” Yukio had replied, and then aimed a kick at Kise’s head because the innuendo was a little unsettling.

Kise had helped him move into the new apartment - i.e., carried one box and then stood around complaining about how the stairwell was filthy, poked at things while suggesting that Yukio move in with Kise’s eldest sister, who has a house nearby - and then given him a mini tour of Tokyo. Chief among the attractions were Maji Burger and the convenience store Kise used to visit with his Teiko friends. “I don’t know about the store,” he said, while walking Yukio back to the apartment, “too many bittersweet memories, but you can find Kuroko-cchi and Kagami-cchi at Maji Burger all the time.” He smiled then, quick, despondent, said in pseudo-cheerful tone, “You know, just in case you want to complain about me to someone!”

Saying heartfelt things like “you did well” was easier when he was Kise’s captain, when they were seeing each other almost every day. Maybe one day Yukio will be able to tell Kise that given the chance, he would trade Kuroko and Kagami for Kise at a heartbeat. That talking about someone can never be the same as having him at the table with you, vibrant and distracting and wonderful. In a few months, Yukio will be able to stop looking around during the heat of a game, hands ready to pass to a tall blond-haired brat, who will follow through without fail, who will go above and beyond his expectations. But for now, whenever he feels a little down, Yukio takes out the list he has been making since moving to Tokyo and adds to it: names of restaurants that he and Kise could go to when summer break starts, games they should attend. He keeps his phone close.


End file.
